


Reality

by Halcy (halcyonweekend)



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, crackship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1953192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyonweekend/pseuds/Halcy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mistral's grown fond of VR training, even during the lull in missions. One particular session takes her breath away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reality

**Author's Note:**

> A crackship that started out as a joke and now I'm super serious about it. I love them both so much. My first attempt at femslash! Sorry for the terrible French.

  
As Desperado troops moved to secure the rest of the area, Mistral took it upon herself to finish up her session in VR. Her role in Desperado’s overall plan had not yet been fulfilled, but there was much out of her control that had to be dealt with. Luckily, she wouldn’t have to deal with it for a while, which let her focus on data collection. The Big Shell Incident had spanned only two days, but the sessions with Dead Cell had taken longer and longer. The fights with Fortune in particular were revised again and again.

Raiden’s inexperience and naiveté aside, there was something about Fortune that kept her from moving forward. As she plugged into the system, the menus that appeared revealed her last open file.

It was the first encounter with Fortune within the plant. In the larger scheme of things, there was no need to review the data. It was a fight that could not be won, as every shot she fired was guided away by her incredible ‘luck’. All she could do was bide her time until the session’s end.

She cleared away that session’s history, and opened a new file. 

The sun was high above, its rays shining brightly throughout the cloudless sky. The smell of salt, brine, and the smog of the city nearby filled her lungs as she took her first breath. The shell’s struts and plants materialized around her, setting the rest of the scene.

Mistral took a look at her form, no longer was she the former Patriot agent, but rather a deweaponized form of her current body. Her arms and fingers flexed and folded, becoming accustomed to the rest of her senses.

She leaned against the railing, closing her eyes and resting an arm, taking in the breeze of the sea. She counted the moments before the session’s start.

The metal which these struts were built with revealed all movement if one wasn’t careful. There were five steps to her left, no more. Opening her eyes, she took a deep breath.

"I’ve been waiting for you."

"Not long, I hope?" The railgun took its place beside Mistral on the railing, with Fortune beside it.  
Mistral glanced at the weapon, its size boasting the power of its owner.

"No, not at all." A hand reached out, fingers gently moving down the length of the gun. "Not that it would have mattered…ma cherie."

Fortune moved the weapon aside, taking its place on the railing. “Keeping a woman like you waiting is a crime.” She laced her fingers with the ones interrupted. “I may be guilty of a lot, but never that.”

Mistral looked over as Fortune chuckled, giving her hand a squeeze. “The only thing you are guilty of is a strength I could only dream of.” Were she still capable of sleep, she would dream only of bringing powerful men to their knees, just as Fortune could with words and brutality.

"You’re too kind."

Time seemed intent on passing as slow as it could, the sun remaining at its apex. The gentle breezes passed constantly. Even as the world remained in motion, she felt this would never end.

"Good fortune smiles on you, but one could say /I’m/ lucky to have you."

"/I/ would say it’s the other way around. For once, I’ve gotten some good luck on my side."

Mistral let her words linger in her mind for a while. There was no derision, no underlying purpose. It was as genuine as could be. The moments passed, and her disbelief was suspended. As those thoughts simmered, a question arose, one she didn’t want to ask, but had to.

Her fingers gripped the railing. “Do you still wish for death?”

This time, it was Fortune who was silent, her gaze never breaking from the horizon. Her thumb moved to caress Mistral’s, and it grew slower as she spoke. “No…not anymore. Ocelot might have taken the only other person I cared for…but he can’t take you. No one can.”

"And if I wanted to be taken away? What if you took me, hm?" She knew this was just zeroes and ones, she knew there was no heart beating in her chest, but she wanted to feel something that was beyond bloodlust for once. Reality would be waiting for her, as would the nations and soldiers who would fall to L’Etranger. For now though. she wanted to indulge what Desperado could never touch.

"Well, for starters, I’d take you far away from here. This city’s got nothing left for us." Fortune gently tugged at Mistral’s hand, beckoning. "I’d take you somewhere nice…somewhere quiet." Mistral let Fortune lead her away. They moved from the ocean’s view, to a spot where even the most eagle-eyed sentry couldn’t see them. "This will have to do for now."

She brought herself closer, her hands lacing with Fortune’s. “This is more than enough…” Mistral brushed her lips past her ear, purring.

Bringing a hand to her cheek, Fortune pulled back just a little, golden lips just barely brushing red ones. This time, there was no trading of words, but rather just gazing, admiring, just before they kisses. She was warmer than she had thought, as if blood, not data, truly ran through her veins. Maybe in this very moment, they did. Though she loved the taste, Mistral wanted more, and Fortune obliged.

Her lips moved down, grazing her jaw. Moving lower, each kiss she planted on her neck left a bit of smeared yellow lipstick. Leaving a trail of sparks, it became Mistral’s favorite shade. 

There was so much left for the other to discover, with only their clothing a barrier. As Fortune peeled off clothes, there was no ceremony, as she moved fast to slip off Mistral’s tight red and black dress, and her own tank top. She tossed them blindly aside, wanting to focus on the beauty before her.

Mistral knew Fortune wanted to take her all at once, but it wouldn’t be until she had a little of her own fun.

Two of her hands slid down her sides, fingers pressing gently on her waist. Another pair placed their palms on her chest. She traced her sharp collarbones, grinning as she shivered. Slender fingers continued down, their tips gliding past tender flesh. Drinking in her sighs, she circled where her chest felt it the most. As they played with her, the last pair reached down, nudging her thighs apart.

"Not yet…" Fortune whispered, a command that Mistral couldn’t help but obey. Hands slid up to her shoulders, and down to her outer thighs, giving them a squeeze.

"Saving the best for last?"

"Not quite." She chuckled, easing Mistral back, as her hands let go. 

It wasn’t easy at first, as the cool metal chilled her back up, but with her warm hands, she rested on the steel. Fortune pulled Mistral’s knees up and apart, as she inched in between them. It was her turn to see what made the other tick.

She continued what she started, but with a bit more force, her kisses leaving more than a touch of gold. What her lips didn’t touch, her tongue toyed with. Surprisingly, it didn’t take much to bring out a moan or two.

Though she loved each sound she made as her hands and lips played with her breasts, she knew there was much more she could coax out.

Her kisses continued their path down her stomach, hands giving her sides a little squeeze. She slid to the edge of her navel, only to bring herself back up. She rested her cheek beside her knee, waiting for Mistral to catch up.

A muttered curse was her reward, and her cue to keep going. More sparks trailed down her thighs, pausing so close to where Mistral needed it most. 

"You’re awful…" She chuckled, tossing her head back.

Fortune pulled her head up, licking her lips. “You’re not…” 

She slid up, her body just grazing. Her lips met Mistral’s, her hand taking a place between her thighs. She missed the kisses below so suddenly, but Fortune kept her sated. Her knuckles danced around the curves, rough and soft skin meeting in a way that brought goosebumps.

The hands that were free traced her in return, one resting on the dip in her back. 

With a light chuckle, Fortune ceased her teasing, fingers gently spreading her a bit. Mistral sighed and wrapped her arms around the other’s neck, needing her to keep her steady.

“ _Embrasse-moi. Touchez-moi. Encore._ " Fortune did nothing but oblige, as her fingers slid inside deeper. Her sweet kisses lasted longer, and longer, to the point where they were breathless. As Mistral became lightheaded, Fortune moved further down, her lips and tongue caressing tender flesh. Mistral took a deep breath, fresh ocean air bringing her higher.

Mistral grasped curly sun-kissed hair, as Fortune circled sensitive spots between her thighs. She started off slow, slick fingers playing with her, but as her breathing shallowed, she sped up. 

Each moan drove her faster and slower. Her lips working when her fingers calmed down. Each tight grip brought a smile that couldn’t be suppressed. 

Mistral could feel something building inside fast. With each stroke, with each kiss, she was inching closer to the edge. Fortune sunk teeth in wherever she could as her body tensed. The pain as she pulled away finally pushed her over.

She spilled her name, among much else. “H-Helena…!”

As her body arched in pure bliss, the session’s architecture crumbled around her. Byte by byte, the landscape disappeared. The city’s skyline faded, the bridge beside them glitched from existence, and the plant was nothing but wireframe.

When she opened her foggy eyes, only Fortune remained, and for only a few seconds she stayed close, her golden smile radiated in the nothingness.

Being thrust into the physical realm forced failsafes and backups. When Mistral opened her eyes again, she was greeted by panicked radio chatter and the rumble of transporter vehicles shaking the lights around her.

Time was short. Raiden would reach the top of the plant soon. 

As her body returned feeling, her mind suppressed all else. Her VR training was over. She had all the information she would ever need, and would ever want. It was time to put it to good use. As she wiped the system, she closed her eyes and pushed those lingering thoughts away. 

Mistral wanted to be the very last person to greet the White Devil, and the very last he would ever see. He wouldn’t go down without a fight, but a fight’s all she wanted.

_Souhaite-moi bonne chance…_


End file.
